When gluten-free cake is offered, it’s like the harvest has come in. Diet? Whaddya mean, diet?! We’ll eat now while we can!
The excitement of seeing gf in a restaurant or (gasp) being given a gluten-free menu.
That being given a choice when ordering food takes forever. We’re so used to being given one option that the combined pressure of excitement and decision-making is too much for us to handle.
You have to eat what you’re given. If you’re offered a gluten-free dish but it’s got something in you don’t like, it’s completely inappropriate to refuse it. You just have to lump it and chow down.
The default dinner of a jacket potato really, really doesn’t appeal.
When someone asks if doing your “diet” helps you lose weight, they never seem to get that that’s not the point.
Cross-contamination is distressing to say the least: if we wanted to harm ourselves, we would’ve chosen to eat the food in its entirety in the first place, not have a tiny trace!
That food bills are often twice as much. A tiny loaf of bread for 3 quid and 5 biscuits for £2.50 is the norm.
That it’s better to go hungry than be unwell.
That one day things will get better just as it did for the vegetarians of the sixties. Patience :-)
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